In The Dark
by Gale Force
Summary: A sequel to The People Out There. A fantasy which begins with Cote arriving in NCIS land and Ziva landing in our world. Please review.
1. Chapter 1

**In The Dark**

**A sequel to The People Out There**

**Chapter One**

**Part One - Cote**

_**"Has the subject been acquired?"**_

_**"Yes, Oh Great One."**_

_**"Has the new and improved Teleinvisichronomicon been fully Charged?"**_

_**"Yes, Oh Great One."**_

_**"Very well. Prepare to activate on my signal."**_

_**"Yes, Oh Great One."**_

Timothy McGee, junior special agent, NCIS, had invited Abby Sciuto, forensics virtuoso, to go with him to the exhibit "Fly Girls of World War II", which had just opened at the Women in Military Service for America Memorial in Arlington, Virginia. The exhibit honored the WASP - over a thousand women who had flown all kinds of military planes during World War II, from heavy bombers to pursuit planes, and the thirty-eight of those women who had given their lives in the service of their country.

Abby had invited Ziva David, Mossad liaison, to come along as well. Ziva had not mentioned their plans to senior Special Agent Gibbs, nevertheless he had somehow heard about it and decided to accompany them. _This _announcement had been overheard by Tony, senior NCIS agent under Gibbs, who declared his intention of coming along as well.

"In England," said Ducky - the team's Medical Examiner, as the group, which now included him and his assistant, Palmer as well, drove in Ducky's van (which he had used to drive around his aged mother) towards the Memorial, "we had a similar, although rather smaller group, called the Air Transport Auxiliary. And also, similar to what the women of the WASP faced, they were resented by many men, who felt that if their jobs were taken away, they themselves would have to go to the front, which of course was the idea."

Abby nodded. "Typical."

"Now the Russians were really progressive," Ducky continued, turning on the access road to the Memorial, "although they needed to be, as they were fighting for their lives after having been decimated early in the war. They had the Night Witches, women who actually piloted fighter planes and engaged in combat! Interestingly, even in the waning stages of the war when Germany was on the ropes and teenaged boys were being sent to the front, women were not allowed to join the Air Force in any capacity. It was still _kinder, kuche, kirche _for them."

"What about in Israel, Ziva?" asked Abby.

Ziva shrugged. "It was somewhat the same. Although Israel is the only country in the world where women are drafted into the military, it was not until about 2001 that they were allowed to do anything other than make coffee and push pencils. Now things are a bit more even."

"I'd say so," murmured Tony.

Ducky parked the van, and they started to pile out.

A group of children, under the imperfect control of their parents, charged past. Ziva, stepping out of the van, sidestepped one, and could have sidestepped the other, what with her splendid reflexes, when...

_**"Now."**_

A sudden searing pain lanced through her head, and thus she was unable to avoid the other child, and so when she dropped to her knees on the ground, all witness assumed that it was caused by the little tyke, rather than a combination of the two events.

Because this was a new and improved Teleinvisichronomicon, however, the lancing pain disappeared almost as soon as it had arrived, and Cote de Pablo got to her feet not feeling any the worse for wear.

Except when she looked around. She'd been on the set of _NCIS_, filming a rather fraught scene between her and Michael Weatherly as Tony DiNozzo, and now instead of being indoors, surrounded by lights and people, she was _outdoors_, dressed completely differently, surrounded by her actor-mates who were also dressed differently, and it was cold and chill and a little tyke was running away from her while its mother said, "I'm so sorry."

"No problem," said Cote.

"That's not like you, Ziva," said Michael with a laugh, as the woman hurried after her child. "To let a kid knock you down, that's pretty bad."

Cote stared at him with a frozen expression. _What the hell_? Had he called her Ziva?

"Ziva has the reflexes of a cat," Pauley Perrette defended her. Pauley? Pauley hadn't been in the scene thry'd been filming..what was she doing here? For that matter, what were David and Brian doing here? For that matter, what was _she _doing here, out in a parking lot in a cold wind? Where the hell were they?

"Coming, Ziva?" said Mark, walking past her.

_I'm having some kind of hallucination_, Cote thought as she started walking (for it must be remembered that though she had been Charged previously by _**the people out there**_, she had forgotten what had happened almost as soon as she had been returned to her own reality, and so this was all new to her again.)

_I was filming a scene, and Mike shoved me against the wall and my head snapped back a little hard, and hit the wall, and I'm having a little out of body experience here. Well, out of _set _and out of _mind _experience, more like it. But I'm going to go with the flow and soon all of this will start to make sense_.

She followed the others into the building, where Gibbs pulled out his wallet and purchased tickets for them all.

**Part Two - Ziva**

Cote de Pablo, who played Ziva David on the televison show _NCIS_, and Michael Weatherly, who played her partner/sparring partner, Tony DiNozzo, had rehearsed the scene they were about to film. Cote's character, Ziva, who was having a rough time of it in this episode, was to go off on Tony, and Tony was to shove her up against a wall and calm her down.

Only, he shoved a little bit too hard, and Cote's head hit the wall a bit hard, and sparks went off before her eyes.

_**"Now."**_

_**"Um...what, Oh Great One?"**_

_**"Show me the other one, now."**_

_**"Oh...but...we don't know that they exchange places, Oh Great One."**_

_**"Oh, yes **_**we **_**do know that, Gamma, don't we?"**_

_**"Um..yes, Oh Great One."**_

_**"So, show me."**_

_**"Yes, Oh Great One."**_

Ziva David, who had been getting out of a van and noticed several small figures rushing at and around her, suddenly saw sparks in front of her eyes, and a tremendous pain in her head. The pain disappeared in an instant, but now she felt someone holding her pressed up against a wall, wrists locked in iron grips, and whoever it was, they had to pay.

She lifted her knee into a very strategic spot...as she did so the bright lights cleared from her eyes and she realized who was holding her. She tried to hold up...failed.

"Je---sus," moaned Tony, folding into the ground.

From somewhere, Ziva heard someone yell, "Cut."

Tony lifted a pained face up at her. "What the hell'd you do that for, Cote?" he choked.

Ziva looked up and around, shocked and bewildered. She was surrounded by bright lights, and people..hundreds of people, in a room, somewhere. And there was an incredibly big camera pointed at her. But...but...Tony was on the floor, and there was Gibbs, and McGee, both staring at her incredulously... and she was standing in a room with only two walls and no ceiling...and vaguely she noticed that she wasn't even dressed the same.

Had she somehow been kidnapped? Brainwashed? Filmed while being brainwashed? And the team had arrived to rescue her?

"Tony, I am so sorry," she said, "I reacted instinctively, I..." she bent down and tried to help him to his feet.

"Good try on trying to save the scene, Cote," Gibbs told her, coming forward and helping her lift Tony. "But I don't think it's going to do any good. Mike...you okay, man?"

_Why were they calling her Cote? And why was Gibbs calling Tony, Mike_?

"Yeah...yeah, Mark, I'm fine. Cote, you gotta watch it with that knee."

_Why are you calling me Cote_? Ziva wanted to scream, but she dared not. Something was wrong here, very wrong. This huge room, those lights, the filming...something was very wrong.

"Uh...Mike...are you ready?" asked another man Cote didn't recognize. "Want to give the scene another try?"

Tony...whom they were calling Mike, bent over, said "Whew," a few times, and then, "Sure, I'm ready to go." He turned to look at her, and gave her one of his charming smiles. "Sorry, Cote, to push you so hard. I'll go easier on you this time."

Ziva stared at him. "I...I am not ready," she said. "I...that hit on the head...it has got me woozy."

Gibbs stepped forward. "Tom, we were going to quit after this scene anyway. Why don't we call it a night, pick it up tomorrow morning?"

"Sure, Mark...okay, everybody, that's a wrap!"

Ziva stood, watching, as all the crowd who'd surrounded them suddenly started talking among themselves and bustling around.

"Cote?" Tony came up to her and she couldn't help herself, she flinched away. "Cote? Jeez, girl, I must have given your head a pretty good knock. You look zoned out. Let me take you to the nurse."

"No, I am fine. I... I just want to go ...home."

Gibbs came up to her. "Cote. You'd better go to the nurse. You don't look fit to do any driving."

"I am fine..." she couldn't say Mark..she couldn't say Gibbs...

"Look, I"ll drive you home," said Tony, whom they called Mike.

There may have been more conversation, but Ziva paid no attention. Even as she accompanied this man who was Tony DiNozzo but answered to the name of Mike, as they walked down corridors, stopped into a room to grab up a big book, then continue on and out into a car, she was busy assessing possibilities and probabilities. It wasn't possible that they'd _all _been brainwashed, was it?

Whatever was going on, she mustn't let it be known that she had broken through her conditioning, and remembered who she was..or perhaps more accurately who she wasn't. She had to take things very slowly, very carefully, until she knew who was responsible for all this...and who she was going to have to kill.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note**: This chapter doesn't have much action, it's all about Cote and Ziva becoming adjusted to their new realities. But it's important you read it before you get to the action in Chapter 3, which hopefully will be fast and funny**.**

As always, reviews and constructive criticism help the creative process along. ; )

**In The Dark**

**A sequel to The People Out There**

**Chapter Two**

**Part One - Cote**

The NCIS team moved purposefully through the Fly Girls of WWII exhibit.

Cote, still feeling bemused and confused, stayed by the side of David McCallum....well, Ducky. Not so much because she was interested in what he had to say, but because she found the steady drone of his voice rather comforting. Along with the knowledge that he wouldn't be interrupting his monologue any time soon, to ask questions to which she did not know the answers.

As usual, he knew everything about the subject under discussion – in this case the WASP – and was sharing what he knew. Palmer also stayed at Ducky's side, whether because he was interested in the knowledge Ducky was sharing or because he felt it politic, who could say?

Abby and Gibbs moved from exhibit to exhibit together, and Tony wavered between the two groups, then finally decided to join that of Abby and Gibbs, due to the fact that Ducky was attracting quite an audience.

They were not alone in the exhibit rooms, and more and more of the people entering crowded around Ducky, apparently believing him to be a tour guide. Ducky relished his audience and played to them.

Cote walked around with her hands folded over her chest, eyes gazing unseeingly into the vitrines or at the walls, forehead creased in thought. She almost had a deja vu feeling..had she dreamt of this before...waking up and finding herself in the real world of NCIS? She probably had. What actor, especially one in a long-running show, didn't dream on occasion of being his or her character? Well..usually it was stage actors, who dreamt that they were on stage in front of a thousand people, and were either totally nude or dried up in the middle of an important speech...

She _had _to be dreaming now...because there was no way on God's green earth that NCIS was real, in some alternative universe somewhere...she'd just have to go with the flow until she woke up...

Cote suddenly put her hands down to the pockets of the dark blue jacket she wore. She wasn't carrying a purse...where was her wallet - her ID and keys? Ah, of course. Doubtless in the black fanny pack around her waist, which she just realized she was wearing. And in the inner breast pocket of the dark jacket she wore would be her NCIS ID. Casually, Cote reached into her jacket, pulled out the ID, and flipped it open. Yep - there was her ID card. Ziva David, NCIS. She flipped the ID closed and returned it to her pocket.

Across the room, Gibbs, who noticed everything, noticed that. He thought it an odd thing for Ziva to do, but then dismissed it. Perhaps she'd written herself a note which she'd folded into her ID... He turned back to the exhibits in front of him.

After every single vitrine had been looked at, and every poster or placard on the walls read, the NCIS team foregathered in a corner. (All except Ducky. He'd been approached by one of the docents of the museum (in her early 50s, with a straight and slender frame and well-coiffed silver hair over a fine-boned, pleasant looking face) – probably the one who would have been responsible for telling the visitors what Ducky'd been telling them. The two of them were in _another _corner, looking quite matey, as Ducky – and David – would have put it, doubtless discussing the finer points of museum exhibit design, or perhaps something else...)

The consensus among the NCIS agents was that they would go to a local Chili's for lunch, then return to the NCIS parking lot where they would disperse and go their separate ways. Cote took no part in the discussion, except to add a nod when it was her turn to say 'yay' or 'nay' to Chilis.

"I'm thinking of taking flying lessons," Abby announced, cheerfully, on the drive to the restaurant. "I've been inspired."

"I have, too, " brought up Tony DiNozzo. "And I've been thinking, too. With all of us pitching in, we could afford to buy our own Eclipse. That's a seven passenger luxury plane, Boss!"

Gibbs chuckled. "You're bound and determined to get NCIS its own private jet, aren't you, DiNozzo?"

Tony grinned. "You got that right, boss. Only it would be _our _private jet as well, don't ya see?" He said this while whirling his finger around at all of them at the table. " What do you think, Ziva?"

Cote, glanced up, made herself smile. "As long as Abby is the only one who pilots it," she said.

"You think if we had a jet _I_ wouldn't learn how to fly it?" scoffed Tony.

"I can fly," offered McGee.

Everyone looked at him.

"Well, I can fly on a flight simulator, via the computer, which is essentially the same thing," McGee amplified.

Gibbs quirked up one side of his mouth in a smile. He thought about saying something clever comparing phone sex with real sex, but Abby beat him to it.

Amid the ensuing laughter, Ducky heard his cell phone. He dug it out of his pocket and handed it to Gibbs, who was riding in the passenger seat next to him.

"Ducky, Jemison here." Jemison was the other NCIS supervisor, who had replaced Paula Cassidy after that agent's heroic death.

"It's Gibbs, Jemison. But Ducky's right beside me. What do you need?"

"Dr. Guterman's daughter went into labor an hour ago - a month early. I need an ME and I was hoping Ducky could help me out."

Gibbs tucked the phone in between his ear and shoulder and pulled out pen and notebook.

"Okay, give me your location." He scribbled a few lines. "Ducky'll be there shortly."

"Sorry, people," he said as he flipped Ducky's phone closed. "We're losing our chauffeur. Ducky, duty calls."

"What about us, Boss?" said Tony.

"Jemison's people are on it. They only need Ducky."

Ducky dropped the team off in the parking lot at NCIS headquarters, beside a cluster of cars that obviously belonged to them all, then went with Palmer to his lab to pick up the material he'd need at the crime scene.

"Well..we still up for lunch?" asked Tony. "Chili's is a bit far away, but there's always Sam's Seafood."

They had Sam's Seafood.

Cote, who had been born in Chile but grew up in Miami, had no accent, except that one which anyone growing up in Florida would have, and so had to assume that of the Israeli, Ziva. She had been very careful to maintain her accent during the lunch, which to her surprise she rather enjoyed. She said as little as possible, as Abby was the most vocal of the two, engaging McGee and DiNozzo in conversation. She and Gibbs were the more taciturn of the group.

But then it was over, and they were back in the parking lot, and everybody was driving off. Cote got into her car, which to her utter shock was a Hummer.

Cote took her wallet out of her purse and checked the driver's license. She checked it again. Ziva David was _how old? _Suppressing a whew, and a "My, she looks good for her age... waitaminnit...." she concentrated on the address. She had no idea how to find it. Well, she'd stop in at a gas station as soon as she followed Gibbs' car out of the Navy Yard.

Once she'd reached "home," which turned out to be in a modest apartment block not far from the Navy Yard, Cote eschewed exploration. She simply found the bathroom, ran herself a hot bath, and climbed into it. She had a lot to think about, but she'd think about it later.

**Part II - Ziva**

Ziva sat in the passenger seat, as Michael Weatherly drove through the streets of Los Angeles. After she'd gotten into the car, he'd placed a purse - it must have been _her _purse, which due to her shock she hadn't noticed he'd picked up from that room he'd gone into - and the thick book on her lap.

She looked at the cover of the book - an 8 X 11 book, with a xeroxed cover, held together by three...she didn't know the English word for it... the things with a circular head and prongs which you put through paper and bent on the other end to keep papers together. On the cover was typed and centered the words:

NCIS: Chase Me Faster

She paged through it...it was some kind of script, with all their names - Ziva, Tony, Gibbs, McGee, listed down the pages, and blocks of text, and action and camera angles called out. Were they making some kind of training film?

But that still didn't explain why they'd kept calling her Cote, and Gibbs Mark, and Tony Mike. Still less did it explain how she could be one second in cold Washington DC, in the parking lot of a museum, and the very next second, in a room in Los Angeles, California.

"Feeling better?" asked... Mike.

"Yes, thank you," she told him. It wasn't exactly true...although she felt no physical pain she certainly felt bewildered. Nevertheless she did not want to draw untoward attention to herself.

"Have you heard anything back from the Taper?" asked Michael Weatherly.

Ziva glanced at him. "Um, no." she said.

"You should get your agent to give them a kick in the butt," Mike said. "You shouldn't have to wait this long to hear. "

Ziva essayed a shrug. "Perhaps not."

"Um...Cote?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you still in character?"

"What?"

"The Ziva accent. You're still doing it."

_What the hell was he talking about? The Ziva _accent?

She tried another shrug. "I just feel like it."

"Oh. Okay." He made a face at her, the type of face Tony would make at her when he was trying to make her laugh.

Five minutes later, he drew up in front of a large apartment block.

_This must be it. Home_.

"So, what time do you want me to pick you up tomorrow?" he asked.

"What time is good for you?"

"Well, five o'clock?"

"That will be fine...Mike. Thanks."

She got out of the car, and headed up the stairs to the building. She dug through her purse until she found a wallet, which, upon opening, revealed a driver's license.

Cote de Pablo.

Ziva's eyes widened. The photograph certainly looked like her, but that birthdate...

The license also gave her address - in particular her apartment number.

She found her apartment without trouble. She went through it carefully, thoroughly. She found an address book, photo albums, inscribed books, everything that identified the owner of the apartment as Cote de Pablo.

The living room had a couple of bookcases, and on one of the shelves was a row of DVDs...some of which were entitled, _NCIS_.

Ziva took these DVDs down and glanced through them, and as she did so, a chill went through her and settled in. She'd heard about Special Agent Caitlin Todd, she'd seen photos of her...and the pictures on the covers of these DVDs matched hers.

And then, there was _her _photo on the cover of some of these DVDs.

Ziva put one of the DVDs in the player, and sat down and watched the episodes unfold. Everything was happening...exactly as it had happened in real life...this wasn't possible.... definitely, _definitely _she'd been brainwashed somehow.

As had the rest of the team? Or had those people around her this morning been frauds...actors who'd had plastic surgery to make them look like Tony, and Gibbs, and so on. What an elaborate fraud...why would such a thing be done?

She returned to the script she'd been given. Every line that had h er name in front of it had been outlined in yellow. She saw the scene they'd been filming that afternoon...she didn't recognize it at all. Why not, if she recognized all the others?

Ziva buried her head in her hands and forced herself to calm down. Her heart was racing...she was starting to have an anxiety attack She breathed deeply for several minutes, concentrated on finding an inner balance.

There was no way she could return to the stage the next morning and pretend to be this Cote character pretending to be her. She had a photographic memory and she was a good actress - a Mossad agent had to be - but....she couldn't do it. She'd lose control of herself and start kicking butt, as Tony would say.

Tony....she had to talk to Tony....who thought he was Mike.

Ziva reached for the phone again, then stopped.

There was one thing she had to do, before she did anything else.

Ziva looked in Cote de Pablo's purse... lots of credit cards in the wallet.

She went out on a shopping expedition, and returned a couple of hours later returned with a gun and a throwing knife, and the appropriate holsters for each.

Then, taking a deep breath, she called Michael Weatherly's number, which she had found in the address book by the phone.

"Mike....Cote. Would you mind...coming back here tonight?"

"Sure, Cote. Something wrong?"

"I'm not sure. I... need to ask your advice about something...face to face."

"I'm on my way."

Ziva replaced the receiver very slowly. She sat down and methodically loaded her new pistol with bullets, then slipped it into the holster which she wore at her back. The knife went into a sheath near her boot.

Then, she sat back calmly – in a rather comfortable chair, to wait.


	3. Chapter 3

-1**In the Dark**

**Chapter Three**

**By Gale Force**

After a few minutes, Ziva grew tired of waiting for Tony…yes, Tony! She knew it was _he _who was coming to her and not this "Michael Weatherly" persona that he had somehow been brainwashed into adopting. She would wait for him outside the apartment building.

Once she got outside she took breaths of the fresh air to calm herself. She thrust her hands deep into her pockets, and her right hand closed over a cellphone.

Ziva pulled the phone out and flipped it open. She rapidly scrolled through the address list. No names that she recognized.

Thinning her lips, Ziva punched in a long distance number…the phone number of her father in Israel. There was not even a ringing… 'This is not a valid number' a voice informed her. In rapid succession, Ziva punched in other numbers. None of them were valid. How could that be?

She snapped the phone shut and threw it away disgustedly.

"Excuse me."

Ziva turned, surprised to see a young man only a few feet away from her. How in the world could she have let someone get so close to her unobserved? She must really be losing it.

"Aren't you… you are…. Ziva David? You are, aren't you? From NCIS?" asked a young man. He appeared to be in his twenties. He held a folded map in one hand and there was a camera around his neck.

Ziva's heart leapt. "Yes," she said eagerly. "Yes, I am! Who are you?"

"I…I….I'm George… I…. I…. can I get your autograph?"

Ziva stared at him. "My autograph?"

"Yes…yes…I'm such a big fan of yours and ….and I'd really appreciate it."

He extended the map to her, and a pen. "I was hoping to see you…"

The rest of his words faded as Ziva examined the map - "Map to the Hollywood stars" it was called. There were small photographs of people in the margins, with arrows pointing to a place on the map where the person apparently lived. Her own photo was there…but with a different hairstyle…and the name underneath it… Cote de Pablo.

A map to her home? Or rather, to this Cote de Pablo's home? Once again, this was too…too elaborate to be some kind of plot to brainwash her and her colleagues….

"Um…um…are you okay?"

Ziva snapped back to the present and scrawled a few letters underneath the photo. "There you go, George."

"Thank you. Thank you so much," he said, accepting the map back.

"Is there something else?" Ziva said, somewhat curtly, as he remained standing in front of her.

"Well…"

Ziva looked at him, then looked pointedly at her watch. "I am expecting someone any minute now…."

"Well, I know you're just an actress…I don't mean _just _an actress, obviously…I mean, I know you're not really Ziva David…but…do you do your own stunts?"

Ziva folded her arms across her chest. "Would it destroy the illusion for you if I said I didn't?"

"No, no. You're great in the role. Absolutely great in every aspect. It's just that I was wondering, that's all."

"Well, as a matter of fact I _do _do my own stunts," Ziva said.

"So…so…if I were to try to kiss you…"

He came forward awkwardly, tentatively, lips pursed. As gently as possible under the circumstances, Ziva grabbed his wrist, twisted it, and drove his arm up behind his back as she spun him around.

"Does this answer your question?"

She shoved him a bit as she released him, and he turned, gazing at her with admiration as he rubbed his wrist.

"Wow," he said appreciatively. "Wow….. I mean….I'm very sorry….but…I just wanted to see if you really knew judo."

"So now you have seen."

Yes. I…. I'd be really embarrassed now if it wasn't so cool. I…"

"Hey!"

At that moment there was a screech of brakes, than a car door slammed and Tony came running up to them.

"What the hell was that, pal?" he demanded.

"Oh, my god," said Zachary. "You're Tony DiNozzo! I am such a fan of yours and Ziva's.

"Oh, really?" said Michael Weatherly, flashing his famous Tony smile.

"Yes, yes. Oh my god, I never thought I'd see the two of you together! Oh my god, oh my god."

He was looking around wildly.

Ziva looked at him, shifting her feet into the appropriate position for a karate kick, should one be required. She was beginning to wonder about his mental state.

"Look, don't you have a self-timer on that thing?" said Weatherly, more understanding of the nature of the fan than Ziva. "Set it up on the car, facing us, and then you can get your picture with us."

"You are the best," murmured George as he quickly did things with the camera, then set it up on the car top. He pressed a button, and they could hear beeping as he rushed back. Ziva stood on one side of him, arms folded across her chest again, face serious. Weatherly put his arm around the man's shoulders, and smiled brightly at the camera.

There was a loud click.

George hurried to the camera, checked to make sure the photo was in focus, and then placed the strap around his neck again.

"You guys have really made my day," he said happily. "Thank you so much."

After a few more minutes in which George also got Weatherly's autograph and expressed his appreciation once more… and said that he wished there'd be more Tiva in the show (a phrase which neither Ziva nor Michael understood), he bade them goodbye and walked briskly away.

"Fans," said Weatherly, cheerfully. "Don't you just love 'em?"

Ziva stared at him.

Weatherly's face changed. Not the rapid wipe of expression that Tony used to segue from his non-sequiturs to business, but a look of genuine concern.

"Jeez, Cote. I saw the guy trying to kiss you, and you handled him pretty well. You weren't really…traumatized or anything by what he did, were you? Because it didn't seem that you were. If I thought that you had been, I would have punched him out."

"No, I am fine." said Ziva. "I just…. Fans."

"That was pretty good, by the way," Weatherly continued. "I was halfway down the block but I saw what you did. A real NCIS agent couldn't have done it any better. Ziva's rubbing off on you."

"Well," said Ziva. "He was just a boy. Unskilled in any form of martial arts. And I do not think he was even trying to kiss me. He just wanted to see what I would do."

"Yeah. Well, you showed him. So, anyway, what's goin on? Why did you call me over."

"Let's not talk here," said Ziva. "Let's go somewhere."

"How about O'Reillys?"

Ziva didn't know who or what that was, but, "Sure."

She got into his car, and Weatherly drove off down the street. Ziva sat in silence, chewing her lower lip and gazing out the car window at the passing scenery. She still had no idea what to say…. She still had no idea what to do….

However, she worked well under pressure. When the time came, something would come to her. Of that she had no doubt.


	4. Chapter 4

-1In the Dark

Chapter Four

By Gale Force

"You know, Cote, I'm worried," said Michael Weatherly, as he drove. "I'm wondering if the show is about to jump the shark."

Ziva blinked. Jump the _shark_? What in the world….?

She could not say "What the hell does jump the shark mean?" out loud, of course. Instead she said, "Why are you wondering that?"

"Well, the fans aren't happy...our friend George notwithstanding. They don't like the way this season has been going. With us, I mean."

Ziva's eyes narrowed. "Oh, so?"

"Well...you know. Our relationship. First we had a sort of romantic "will they or won't they"...then we got our own love interests. _Now _it looks like we don't even like each other... Let alone trust each other. You know the fans didn't care much for our season finale. And I don't like it either. I wanted us to get together."

"I'm sure you did," murmured Ziva.

Weatherly grinned at her. "Come on, Cote. It's what the fans want. And I think it'd make for some pretty good story arcs. Instead of building up the tension on whether or not we would get together, the tension would be…worrying each other would get killed, and of course concealing the relationship from Gibbs. That would make a helluva lot more sense than that silly Palmer-Lee affair from two seasons ago. That was so lame. So contrived."

Ziva stiffened. Was he making a joke about that tragedy? The death of a fellow agent…even if she'd turned out to be a traitor of sorts.

Hot words trembled on her lips, but before she could say anything, Weatherly turned into a parking lot and stopped the car. "We're here." he announced.

"Oh, really?"

"No. O'Reilly." he said. Then chuckled as if he had made a funny joke.

Ziva noticed that the second 'l' in the neon sign for O'Reilly's bar was dim. She wondered why these bars and other businesses allowed their signs to look so shoddy, as she followed the actor into the smoky interior. "Two beers, Sam," he called to the bartender, while simultaneously pointing toward a corner seat.

Most of the people in the bar must have been regulars, Ziva thought, as they looked up at Weatherly and she as they passed and merely waved, or otherwise showed no interest. But a couple of people had looked at them and were whispering together excitedly. Finally one of them came up bearing a napkin and a pen, asking for an autograph.

They obliged. The person thanked them profusely and walked away.

"We'll be on all the gossip sites tomorrow," Michael murmured. "Are we an item, or are we not?"

Ziva was getting very confused by the way Weatherly seemed to talk interchangeably about their characters on this TV series and themselves as actors. Or was this proof that he'd been brainwashed into thinking he was an actor when he was really an NCIS agent? And just as she had come to her senses, perhaps his confusion was evidence that he was returning to his.

Or perhaps not, thought Ziva, as yet another individual came up to them asking for an autograph.

"Don't you just love this?" Weatherly asked cheerfully, as the fan walked away.

Ziva grimaced.

"Okay, Cote," he said leaning across the table (for they were on opposite sides, in a booth). "Something's bugging you…tell me what it is."

Ziva stared deeply into Weatherly's eyes, trying to find _some _trace of Tony there.

Subjected to such searching scrutiny, what else could Michael Weatherly think? "Uh, Cote," he began softly.

Ziva held up a hand. "What would you say if I told you I was not Cote de Pablo, but rather Ziva David?"

Weatherly blinked at her. He started to smile, then stopped. "Uh..what?"

"I am Ziva David."

"Uh, Cote… you are an actress who plays Ziva David. Look, we've been working really hard, and…"

"How many languages does Cote speak?" Ziva demanded. "Can she speak Hebrew?"

"Well, no."

"_I _can." And she rattled off a few sentences.

Michael held up his hands. "It doesn't do any good to speak it to me. _I _don't understand it."

"Well, let's go find somebody who does!"

"Okay…well…let's finish our beers first."

It was Weatherly's turn to look at her searchingly. "If you're Ziva David…where's Cote?" he asked casually.

"I don't know. All I know is this afternoon - you remember when I kicked you - up until that point I had been in Washington, DC. The next thing I know, I'm being shoved up against a wall and I reacted."

"Yeah, I remember," said Weatherly.

He finished off his beer. "Okay, let's make tracks."

"Where are we going?" asked Ziva as Weatherly pulled out of the parking lot and turned left.

"I'm thinking…Beth Israel Temple of Hollywood? They'll be someone there who speaks Hebrew, eh?"

Ziva nodded. "Good idea."

She saw Weatherly glancing sideways at her as he drove.

"You think I'm crazy?" she asked, more calmly than she felt.

"I don't know what to think," Weatherly said frankly. "Let's wait until we get to the Temple." _Because_, he thought to himself, _when the Rabbi tells her she's speaking gibberish instead of Hebrew, that's when I'll tactfully suggest we go to the hospital._

They arrived at the Temple, parked, and went inside. A rabbi came to greet them.

Ziva started speaking immediately, in Hebrew, and the rabbi responded to her in that language. She almost had to laugh as Michael Weatherly's face took on a stunned look.

Finally the Rabbi turned to him politely.

"Let me guess," Weatherly said. "She was speaking flawless Hebrew."

"Yes."

"With a Spanish accent?" he asked hopefully.

"No, pure Israeli."

"I see." said Weatherly, faintly.

"Now I really need a drink," he said, as they were once more driving along the streets of Los Angeles. "I have to admit I'm feeling pretty damn confused right now."

"You are telling me?" said Ziva bitterly.

_Maybe Cote _did _know how to speak Hebrew_. Michael thought. _Because it just isn't possible that this woman could really _be _Ziva David. This isn't the Twilight Zone. More's the pity_.

_Besides_, he continued thinking, _if this were Ziva David…that would mean that somewhere, there was a Tony DiNozzo. And a Gibbs. And an Abby_!

"Look," said Ziva suddenly. "There's a martial arts studio there. Let's go in."

Michael glanced at her, then turned into the parking lot.

"What are you going to do?" he demanded as they walked into the studio.

"I feel like beating up on someone," Ziva said frankly. "Let us see if they have ay instructors here who feel like bouting."

"Uh…Co….I mean…Ziva…uh… you've already proved with the Hebrew…"

"Perhaps…but perhaps you require some more proof.."

Except, thought Ziva, this body she was inhabiting…it lacked the layer of muscle that she had… why had she not realized that before? She was still trim, in shape, but if someone were to punch her in the stomach…she wasn't so sure that she could withstand it…either she had not worked out in her normal fashion for at least the last six months…or she had indeed transposed bodies with this Cote de Pable…

**II. Cote De Pablo**

Cote de Pablo sat at the desk of Ziva David, reading through files. Thankfully, it appeared, murders and robberies didn't occur every day of the week, as the audience was led to assume by their weekly dose of _NCIS_.

She had entered the building that moment and wandered around in somewhat of a daze. Everything was _exactly _as it was in the TV series, only all this equipment actually worked.

There were some differences. She, Tony DiNozzo, Timothy McGee and Gibbs had their desks as normal, but indeed the room which they inhabited was a huge one and there were at least a half a dozen agents sitting at them, working away at something. And at least another half dozen empty desks which other agents must occupy when they weren't on assignment.

Despite herself, Cote soon became immersed in the files. What human stories unfolded behind each impersonal set of words.

Each time the telephone sounded, Cote had to suppress a start. She did not want to go out in the field…no, please no.

However, such was not to be. The phone on Gibbs desk rang. By the one-sided conversation that ensued, Cote knew that something had happened. And when Gibbs hung up the phone, he spoke the words she dreaded. "Get your gear, everybody. There's been a killing at Quantico."

**Chapter III - Mixing It Up….**

_**Has the next subject been acquired?**_

_**Yes, O Great One.**_

_**Very well. On my signal.**_

_**Yes, O Great One.**_

Cote rode in the van with Tony DiNozzo, with Timothy McGee in the back. Gibbs was driving his own sedan to the site.

Tony drove in silence. Cote glanced at him sideways. This last season of NCIS had rather changed the character dynamic between Ziva and Tony… they were now more enemies than anything else…and neither she nor Michael had been pleased with the way things had been going. Sure, it was giving them a chance to show their acting chops, but the changes were so….out of character..the show was lacking that fun that it used to have…. It was a pity.

She had been thinking about talking with Michael and Mark about the matter…but now…now…

As they approached the frontage road leading to Quantico, Cote breathed a sigh of relief. The traffic in this area was insane!

Her cellphone rang. Surprised, Cote flipped open the phone and saw that Gibbs was calling them. "Hold up," he said. "We're getting more details."

"Gibbs says to hold up." Cote told Tony.

He glanced at her, then pulled the van into some kind of a layby just in front of the gates leading to Quantico.

"I'm going to stretch my legs," he said briefly, getting out of the van.

Cote got out too, as did Timothy McGee. Gibbs drew in in his own car, and also got out, but stayed by the sedan, talking on his cellphone.

The three of them stretched their legs, silently, while looking around.

Then Gibbs waved his hand in a signal and they all got back into the van.

As they did so, they heard the shriek of tires and the sound of sirens approaching. A car barreled past the layby, then spun so that it slid just in front of the entrance to Quantico. The car began heading in the other direction. It fishtailed, it drove through the layby to avoid a police car, and fishtailed again into the driver's side of the NCIS van.

_**Now.**_

_**Now, O Great One? But…**_

_**I said, Now.**_

_**Yes, O Great One.**_

Tony DiNozzo's eyes widened as he saw the car coming toward him. He'd just fastened his seatbelt and so couldn't dive out of the way, the jolt was terrific…he saw a white light and the pain in his head was intense.

When he opened his eyes again he saw Ziva and some guy bouting on a bunch of mats in the center of a huge room. No car….no van….no Gibbs.. What the hell?

Meantime, Michael Weatherly opened his eyes to find himself with a blinding pain behind his eyes and a feeling as if a knife had cut him in two. The remains of an airbag were draped around him.

"What the hell?" he said dazedly.

"Scooch over, Tony, scooch over," yelled McGee. "Ziva, you'd better drive. We've got to get that bastard."

Almost like an automaton, Michael released the seat belt and scooched over, He heard the door open behind him and Cote de Pablo climbed in and started the car. Although his head was buzzing, he was sure she was mouting the words, "oh my god oh my god oh my god as she pressed down on the accelerator in a squeal of tires.

Michael clutched his head in his hands. "What the hell?"


	5. Chapter 5

-1In the Dark

Chapter Five

By Gale Force

Weatherly

"_**Alpha….psssst, Alpha."**_

"_**What is it, Gamma?"**_

"_**This is bad. So very bad."**_

"_**What? Why?"**_

"_**To have two subjects from the same time stream at once…"**_

"_**We've done it before…"**_

"_**But we have not transferred a subject while their alternate self was in the middle of a car chase!"**_

"_**Yes, well, the Great One knows what he's doing."**_

"_**I'm sure he does, but I do not think the Great One is as concerned with the safety of our subjects as he should be."**_

"_**Well…they **_**are ****_only subjects."_**

"_**Alpha!"**_

"_**Oh, don't worry, Gamma. We are the ones with our appendages on the controls, after all. Should our subjects look to be in too much danger….we transfer them back."**_

"_**Putting their alternate selves in the same danger with no chance to orientate themselves as to the situation before death strikes?"**_

**Alpha waved an appendage. "_You worry too much, Gamma."_**

**If Gamma had had teeth, he'd have gritted them.**

When the TechnoTeleinvisichronomicon transferred subjects _back _to their original time stream, the subjects lost all memory of their actions in the alternate reality. But when they were transferred _to _that alternate time stream, they remembered all that had happened up until that point.

Michael Weatherly, therefore, remembered that he had been standing in a martial arts dojo, with Cote de Pablo, who for some reason was having an identity crisis and actually thought she _was _the character she played on TV, Ziva David! Now, suddenly, he was sitting in a big ol SUV with a splitting headache while Cote was driving like a maniac and Sean Murray's head sticking through the opening of a glass partition crying, "Ziva, go left, go left!".

_What the hell_? thought Tony.

This could _not _be happening.

But there was no way this was a fake or a hallucination. He was in the NCIS van, for God's sake, and they were driving through the streets of some city he didn't recognize…it sure as hell wasn't anywhere in Los Angeles…

So Cote wasn't crazy….she had become Ziva David. And now he…._he _was Tony DiNozzo.

The tires screeched.

Michael looked over at Ziva David. Her teeth were gritted and her knuckles on the steering wheel were white. Looked like Ziva had been transported back to her old self, and was driving like a maniac.

Michael forced himself to speak in a normal voice and not in a shriek. "Ziva, do you have any idea where you're going?"

"Just buckle your seatbelt and hang on." she commanded him.

Michael shifted over a few more inches so that he was able to get the seatbelt buckled. His head was pounding, and he buried his face in his hands. Supposedly that was the only way to ride when either Ziva or Gibbs was driving, and it was turning out to be true.

And because of this, he did not see Cote de Pablo's lips constantly moving, as she said under her breath "Oh my god, oh my god" in a mantra as she drove along after their quarry.

The radio crackled. Mark Harmon…. Gibbs?….voice came over loud and clear.

"Ziva, terminate your pursuit now. Now, do you hear me?"

Without hesitation, Ziva stamped on the brakes and brought the van to a halt. Indeed, Michael was prepared to believe that she'd actually breathed a sigh of relief.

"Let the LEO's handle that chase," Gibbs barked. "We've got our own work to do. I'm going to check out the situation here at Quantico. I need you guys to head to 345 Walden Road. There's a dead lieutenant there."

"It seems too much of a coincidence that that hit-and-run driver had nothing to do with our case," said Sean Murray…no…Timothy McGee, Michael corrected himself.

"That is what I thought," said Cote, giving a quick glance at the man whom she thought was Tony DiNozzo.

"Well, apparently it didn't," Michael said shortly. "So let's get along to 345 Walden Road."

"Yes," said the woman whom he thought was Ziva David. She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. "How do I get there?" she demanded.

_I have no idea_, Michael wanted to say, but stopped himself. Presumably as Tony DiNozzo he _would _know how to reach that address.

"Hey, Probie," he said in a burst of genius. "Tell Ziva how to get to that address."

"Why not just use the GPS?" said Timothy McGee in a bewildered tone.

"Ah, yes." said Cote. "You passed the test, McGee."

Now that she had calmed down from the abortive car chase, Cote de Pablo's brain was working again. Of course there was a GPS in the NCIS van….there was all sorts of electronic gear that the cameras panned through for every episode. None of which she knew how to use in real life. However, the GPS was different. It had come standard in her own car and she had used it on a few occasions.

Cote punched the address into the GPS device on the dashboard, and a computerized voice began giving her directions.

Meanwhile, Michael Weatherly reached gingerly to his belt, where there was a heavy weight. His palm closed over the butt of a gun. He pulled it out of its holster and looked at it. As he'd done many times before…in front of the camera….he ejected the magazine clip, looked at it, then replaced it in the gun.

It was true. He was Tony DiNozzo….he was armed and dangerous…and he was being driven ------ he winced as there was a screech of tires as the van took a turn on seemingly two wheels -- by the worst driver in the world, at least in the northern hemisphere.

"Everything alright, Tony?" asked Timothy McGee perfectly.

"Oh, everything's just fine, Probie," Michael commented. "Just fine. Tell me when we've arrived."

And he closed his eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note. Sorry for the long delay. Hope this installment lives up to people's hopes and expectations.**

**In the Dark**

**Chapter Six**

Part I

Tony DiNozzo clutched at his head. One minute he'd been involved in a high speed car chase with Ziva driving, and now he and Ziva were in some kind of dojo and Ziva was beating the crap out of somebody with a black belt.

"Oof," he thought, as the black belt went flying through the air. But he bounced up again with a grin on his face, and he and Ziva started circling each other again.

Tony grasped himself around his mid-section. His ribs were no longer hurting. The van had been side-swiped by a car, the airbag had gone off, and he could feel the pain… but now, he felt fine. He must have had a concussion or something, he thought. Temporary amnesia. He knew plenty of athletes who'd gone through something similar. They'd be concussed on the field, talk lucidly, finish playing the game and go through the rest of the day feeling fine, and the next day they'd wake up and not remember anything that had happened to them until a couple of hours _before_ the game they'd played in the day before.

That must be what had happened to him. It must be a day or two later. He'd been operating on auto-pilot, and now he was himself again.

Ziva was certainly enjoying herself. The black belt had got in a couple of blows, but now she had him on the ground again. He tapped his hand to signal surrender, and she let him up. Once again they started to circle each other.

Tony looked around. There had to be a vending machine around here someplace. Ziva looked like she was going to be a while.

Part II

While Tony DiNozzo, whom Ziva David thought _was_ Tony, but who had been brainwashed into thinking he was an actor named Michael Weatherly, munched on a bag of Cheetohs and drank Pepsi while enjoying his ringside seat of Ziva, whom he thought was ZIva, working over a black belt in Karate, Cote de Pablo and Michael Weatherly had problems of their own.

For one thing, Cote de Pablo, driving a car at high speed toward 345 Walden Road, thought that Michael Weatherly was in reality Tony DiNozzo, and Michael thought that she was really Ziva David. Meanwhile, Timothy McGee, eyes closed against the driving of the woman in the front seat, had no reason to suppose to that it was anyone other than Ziva and Tony in the front seats. As far as _he_ was concerned, all was right with the world.

Belying the rapid speed that had got them there, Cote applied the brakes gently and the van slid to a halt in front of 345 Walden Road.

Once the van had come to a complete halt, she turned to look at Michael. "We're here," she said unnecessarily.

There was silence and no movement for what seemed like eternity for Michael and Cote, but was probably only a minute.

"Ducky and Palmer won't be too far behind," commented McGee. "What are you guys waiting for?" he opened up the sliding door of the van and got out."

Michael poked his head out of the window and gave the man a glare. "It was rather an eventful ride, Mc….Mc…," he couldn't think of a single nickname to call McGee…who looked so much like Sean Murray it was frightening. "I'm just catching my breath."

Cote was not one to not give her role it all either. "Mc….Mc…?" she began…then paused. She couldn't think of a clever retort to make to Tony, either. Where was a script writer when you needed one?

Michael had turned back to look at her, one eyebrow raised. "Yes, Ziva?" he queried.

Cote waved an airy hand. "McGee is right. We need to get to work."

She got out of the van, and along with Michael and McGee, walked up to the front door. A police officer, one of the Law Enforcement Officers, or LEOs, was standing guarding the door.

McGee walked in unhesitating. Both Cote and Michael paused on the threshold. Each one was thinking individually, I'm about to walk into to a room and see a dead body on the floor. A _real_ dead body. With all that that implies.

The police officer glanced at them in puzzlement. "Something wrong?" he asked.

"I was just waiting for…" they both said simultaneously, and then glanced at each other.

"You first, Ziva," Michael said quickly.

Cote took a deep breath, and walked into the room.

Michael took a deep breath, and followed her.


	7. Chapter 7

**In the Dark**

**Chapter Seven**

Part I

Ziva David bowed low to her opponent, who was looking a little bit the worse for wear. After the bows she stepped forward and they shook hands.

Tony popped the last few M&Ms into his mouth, crumpled up the bag and tossed it accurately into a nearby garbage can, as Ziva came to meet him.

"Whew," said Tony. "You took it a bit easy on him, didn't you?"

"Are you convinced now?" Ziva, whom Tony _thought_ was Ziva, asked of Tony, whom _she_ thought was Michael Weatherly.

Tony raised an eyebrow. But he said, "Absolutely. Well done."

Ziva nodded sharply. She took a deep breath and tugged at the _gi_ that she had borrowed to her bouting with the black belt. "I wish to take a shower. I will only be five minutes."

"Sure," said Tony.

As Ziva disappeared into the women's locker room, Tony ran his fingers through his hair. It didn't seem as if they were in this dojo for any purpose related to work, so Ziva must have wanted to come in here just to get a work out. And obviously to show him something, although what, god only knew.

With a flash of inspiration, Tony pulled out his cellphone. A look at the calls he'd received in the last 24 hours might tell him something.

He stared at the phone in surprise. It was an IPhone, but it wasn't his. He pushed the button to look at the phonebook, and scrolled through the names in bewilderment. He didn't recognize a single one. Tony returned the phone to where he'd gotten it and searched the rest of his pockets. No other phone. He pulled out his wallet. For some reason, he opened it up. There was his driver's license. But it wasn't for Washington, DC. It was for Los Angeles, California. And the name on it wasn't Tony DiNozzo, but rather Michael Weatherly.

He and Ziva must be on an undercover mission. Tony looked around the dojo casually. No payphones. Well, they'd probably been take out ten years ago or more. But… he went over to the entrance desk. "Do you have a phone book I could look at?" he asked.

"Sure," said the clerk, and put a large phone book up on the desk. As Tony had semi-suspected, it was a Los Angeles phone book, not a DC one. They must be in Los Angeles. Why? Were they helping out the NCIS: Los Angeles squad? Is that what was going on here?

_Got to be_, he murmured to himself.

Ziva reappeared, dressed in street clothes now.

"Ready?" said Tony. Ziva nodded. Tony opened the door and she preceded him out into the street. Once there, Tony glanced around. Where the hell were they?

He finished glancing around, then looked at Ziva, who was staring at him.

"Well?" she asked.

Tony essayed a grin. "Well, what?"

"Why are we just standing here?"

"I'm waiting for you to lead the way," said Tony with a cheeky grin.

She gave him one of her looks, then walked to the passenger side of a bright blue Lincoln. Tony followed her, except to the driver's side. He fished in his pockets and pulled out a keychain. A touch of a button and the doors unlocked, and he slipped into the driver's side as Ziva climbed into the passenger's side.

Tony took a deep breath. "Where to now?" he asked.

"You tell me," countered Ziva. "After what I've told you…what I've proved to you…have you nothing to say?"

Tony looked at her. She looked so….so vulnerable somehow….so lost. Tony leaned forward and brushed his lips slowly over hers.

Her eyes widened. "You have nerve, I will give that to you," she said, as he paused to see what her reaction would be.

"Ziva," Tony said, "I have to tell you something. I can't…."

"Shhhhh," Ziva hissed suddenly, as her eyes suddenly stared over his shoulder.

Tony maintained his position. "What's happening?" he whispered.

"I think it's a car jacking," Ziva whispered back. "There's a green Malibu at that stop light ahead of us…a man just got in and forced the driver into the passenger seat."

"I'm on it," said Tony decisively. Casually, he turned away from Ziva to face front again, and started the car. He saw the green Malibu ahead of them…the light turned green and the car accelerated smoothly. No sign of panic on the driver's part, if it was a car jacking. But the person in the passenger's seat did seem to be cringing as far away from the driver as possible.

Tony shifted his own car into gear and followed after them. "Scooch next to me, Ziva," he ordered, " so that if the driver looks back he'll just see a guy and a girl out for a joy ride."

Obediently, Ziva scooched over, after giving him a look that Tony could swear was one of admiration. Rather odd, that. This was just routine procedure. Nevertheless, he felt a warm glow as her left arm circled his shoulders, and her right arm rested on his bicep. It felt good.

Part II

_**Beta.**_

_**Yes, Alpha?**_

_**Did you manipulate the Teleinvisichronomicon?**_

_**What do you mean…to cause that…. What did she call it… carjacking?**_

_**Yes.**_

_**No.**_

_**Then it is a coincidence?**_

_**I think that it is something that happens to our subjects. Remember we have observed some subjects that have gone through their entire lives with nothing dramatic happening to them.**_

_**That is very true. I much more enjoy observing these NCIS people. Something is always happening to them.**_

_**I think that is what it is. The Great One talked about it during one of his lectures. The Flux, he called it.**_

_**Oh…yes…I remember now. Well, the Flux is certainly working now. For all our subjects.**_

_**Yes. But only two of them are used to this. Let us go back and observe what is happening with our initial subjects.**_

_**Very well.**_ Beta maneuvered his tentacles, and the scene in the Teleinvisichronomicon shifted, to show Michael Weatherly and Cote de Pablo walk past the police officer guarding the door of the home, within which was a murder scene.

Part II


	8. Chapter 8

**In the Dark**

**Chapter Eight**

**Part I – The Story so Far – The People Out There**

In the command center of the Teleinvisichronomicon, Alpha and Beta simultaneously hunched over the command console, tentacles adjusting a dial here, pressing a button there as needed, while they watched the action taking place on the huge screen in front of them. It was split screen. One side showed what was happening on the planet Earth, which they were observing, and the other screen showed what was happening on the other planet Earth, which they were also observing.

There was a buzzing noise. Beta's tentacle reached into his carryall and pulled out his mobile communicationotron, which he peered at with a couple of his eyes.

_**It's not me.**_

Alpha glanced at Beta with a couple of _his_ eyes, then extracted his own communicationotron with a tentacle and held it to his ear.

_**Speak**_, he commanded.

Beta strained one of his ear stalks to hear, but all he could hear was squawking. What he could _see_, however, was that Alpha had grown very pale and most of his tentacles were waving agitatedly. He placed one of them over the communicationotron and hissed at Beta:

_**We are so ishkabibbled**_. (English translated – screwed.)

_**What's the matter**_, Beta hissed back.

_**It's a student from the local university!!!! They've tapped into the feed of the Teleinvischronomicon and have been **_**watching**_** it!**_

_**They can't do that!**_

_**They can't, but they are**_. _**But**_ _**they've come in late, and they want to know what's going on!**_

_**Even I don't know what's going on**_, Beta muttered.

_**It only matters that the Great One doesn't know what's going on**_, Alpha muttered back.

Beta waved a tentacle. _**Well, bring them up to date, then. If you can**_.

_**Of course I can, Beta. **_**I**_** have been paying attention**_.

Beta shrugged his gargantuan shoulders and moved his head in a way that he had picked up from a late night of Teleinvisichronomicon watching, as his lips moved silently.

But Alpha had one tentacle over his eyes as he attempted to explain things to the University students.

_**We are running two time/space streams,**_ he said. _**In one, on Earth A, let us call it, the humans get their entertainment from small versions of the Teleinvisichronomicon called a television. Our test subjects are two actors in a TV program called NCIS…yes, yes, we are running two subjects simultaneously….yes, yes, that means we **_**are**_** running four subjects altogether…yes, the Teleinvisichronomicon **_**is**_** new and improved…. do you want me to explain this to you or not? Fine, so where was I? Oh, yes. So, from Earth A, we have taken the actors Cote de Pablo and Michael Weatherly, and transported them into the Teleinvisichronomicon which projects the events of Earth B, in which this NCIS television show is actually their real life. Now, Cote de Pablo does not know that Michael Weatherly is with her in this alternate reality. And Michael Weatherly does not know that Cote de Pablo is with him. They each think the other is the real counterpart of this program**_.

Alpha took a deep breath. _**Now, on Earth A, Ziva David and Tony DiNozzo have been transported into the bodies of their actor counterparts, De Pablo and Weatherly. David, however, believes that Tony DiNozzo has not been transported, and that she is actually dealing with the actor, Michael Weatherly. Tony DiNozzo, on the other tentacle, does believe that Ziva is Ziva**_.

Beta heard more squawking from the communicationotron. Alpha put another tentacle over his eyes and rocked his head from side to side. _**Yes, I **_**know**_** it would be more amusing if DiNozzo thought that Ziva David was this actress Cote de Pablo, but that's just not the way it worked out. We aren't doing this for gagoskusos (**_English translation, Kicks and giggles_**) you know. This is a serious study**_!

More squawking.

_**Right, well, now you know what's going on. But don't tell anyone else, and don't feed this transmission to anyone else, either! This is just between us, right? Right. Very good.**_

Alpha pressed a button on the communicationotron and then returned it to its proper place. Then he looked back up at the two screens_**.**_

_**College students, **_he said disparagingly_**.**_

_**I thought we **_**were**_** doing it for gagoskusos, **_commented Beta_.___

_**All**_** of Alpha's eyestalks swiveled to glare at Beta.**_** I wonder about you sometimes, Beta. We are doing it for gagoskusos, yes, but we don't tell college students that! **_**That's**_** just between you and me! **_

_**All right, all right.**_

_**All right then. So okay, what did I miss**_?

And their eyestalks swiveled back to the Teleinvisichronomicon.


	9. Chapter 9

**In the Dark**

**Chapter Nine**

**Part I **

Michael Weatherly and Cote de Pablo entered the room that contained the scene of the crime. They both stopped abruptly when they saw the body lying on the floor.

The body was that of a man, wearing the uniform of a Navy lieutenant. He hadn't been killed in any kind of gory way, thank god, both Michael and Cote thought – simultaneously, did they but know it. He was lying face down, and there wasn't even any blood visible. There _was_ an odor of bodily fluids…when a person died they lost control of their sphincter and a release of urine was usually the result…

Cote looked at what could be seen of the body. She'd looked at a lot of them…on the set…with the actor doing his best to not breathe….and then after the director yelled cut he'd sit up with a grin. But this man would never sit up again. Whoever he was, whatever he'd been, he was now just a crumpled body lying on the floor…all hopes, dreams and aspirations over.

Cote glanced over at Michael (whom she thought was Tony DiNozzo). His face too was looking rather grim.

McGee looked at them. "Hadn't one of you better talk to the LEO? Get the scoop on who found the body, and stuff?" he asked.

"I'll do that," both Cote and Michael said simultaneously.

They glared at each other. Michael drew himself up. "As senior agent, I get to interrogate the LEO. Ziva, you…" he waved a hand. "Carry on."

Michael left the room without giving her a chance to argue. He pulled a notebook and pen from his pocket as he went to get the details from the LEO.

Both Cote and Michael, as well as Sean Murray, Mark Harmon and Pauley Perrette, had gone through some training at the actual NCIS, so that they could better approach their roles.

Cote de Pablo, therefore, picked up the camera that hung around her neck, and prowled around the room taking photographs. She owed it to the victim to do her very best…and after all it wasn't that hard to take photographs…especially since she was going to take photos of every square inch of the room, just to be on the safe side.

As well as the body.

After taking pictures of the entire room (while McGee was presumably going through the rest of the house and Tony was taking an awful long time talking to the LEO) it was time to take photos of the victim. Cote took a deep breath and took refuge behind the viewfinder.

As she finally took the last photo, Gibbs walked into the room, followed by Ducky and Chris Palmer.

Gibbs looked round the room, then fixed her with a glare.

"Where's DiNozzo?"

Cote stared at him.

"You should have just walked past him. He was talking to the LEO at the front door."

"There was no LEO at the front door," said Gibbs. "Where's McGee? McGee!"

Silence.

"Ducky, you get to work on the body," Gibbs ordered. "Come on, Ziva, let's go find McGee and DiNozzo."

Cote placed her camera on a table, then followed Gibbs into the rest of the house. They walked through it. No sign of McGee. They walked out the back door and into a large back yard. No McGee. No Tony DiNozzo.

Gibbs took out his cellphone, and brought up DiNozzo's number in the phone book. He punched send, and listened to it ring, until finally it went to DiNozzo's voice mail.

"Voice mail," he said, looking at Cote grimly.

Cote pulled out Ziva David's cell phone. She punched in send after McGee's number. It too rang, and rang, with no answer, until finally it went to voice mail.

"Where are they?" she asked in bewilderment.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Authors Note: **_

_**Thanks to all my faithful readers. Just to let you know, I'll have the entire In the Dark story wrapped up in Chapter Twelve. So, two more chapters to go after this one! They'll be done by the end of the week.**_

**In the Dark**

**Chapter Ten**

**Part I **

**Earth B (Cote de Pablo and Michael Weatherly in the world of NCIS. Each thinks the other is Ziva and Tony DiNozzo)**

Vasily Rodzenko sat in the back of the van, his gun trained on the three Americans. One was a uniformed police officer, and two were business-suited men in their mid-thirties. He had frisked them, and handed their ID wallets to his colleague, Ludmilla Kropotkin. It was she who went through them.

"So what's up, comrade," said the handsome one named Anthony DiNozzo, according to his credentials, which identified him as an NCIS agent. The other one was an NCIS agent too, Timothy McGee.

"You realize you're making a big mistake, Comrade," DiNozzo said again. "You're kidnapping three law enforcement officials…which means the FBI and the CIA and even the ATA will be on your tail. And I can tell you that they are the least of your worries…. my boss will move heaven and earth to find us. And if anything happens to us….well, you won't live to regret it."

Ludmilla Kropotkin wished, not for the first time, that she'd been sent to the United States with an all-women team of agents. These men…they drank too much vodka, and their testosterone was so high that it was practically squirting out of their ears. Their operation at that home had been compromised…there had been no reason to kidnap these three men. And now what were they to do with them?

Killing three law enforcement officials…it was as this DiNozzo said, it would do no good and might make things even worse.

It was time to turn on the charm.

"I must apologize for my colleagues," she said, with a warm smile. "You think we have kidnapped you but this is not so. We have saved your lives."

"How do you work that out?" demanded the police officer.

Ludmilla waved an airy hand. "That home was not safe. It was necessary to plant explosives in order to bring it all down in one piece, as a controlled explosion, you understand, so that no one entering the home would be injured accidently."

"So you kidnapped us to save our lives?" scoffed the cop.

Michael Weatherly gaped at the Russian woman, and he knew that beside him, Timothy McGee was gaping too.

"Now just a damn minute," he said when he was able to suck air into his lungs. "There were two people inside that home when you grabbed us. Where are they?"

Ludmilla froze for a second, then she turned to Vasily and started speaking rapidly to him in Russian. He turned his full attention on her as he responded excitedly. He started waving his hands, including the one in which he was holding the gun.

Michael Weatherly felt as cold as ice. There was a bomb in that home…and Ziva David and Ducky were both there. When was it scheduled to go off?

What could he…?

At that moment Timothy McGee, who had been waiting, hoping that action hero Tony DiNozzo would do _something_, decided that Tony had gotten too used to Ziva doing all the physical work. He didn't know what to do when he was staring down the barrel of a gun and Ziva wasn't there to save the day. But ZIva and Ducky were in deadly danger…and that guy with the gun wasn't paying any attention… and _he_ had been working out with weights in his quest to lose some weight, and by god he was going to do something.

McGee lunged across the van, grabbing at the gun in the hand of Vasily.

Vasily started punching him.

The police officer also lunged forward, taking his lead from McGee, but quick as a striking snake, Ludmilla had pressed him back into his seat and was standing over him with a dagger in her hand.

McGee was back in his seat with a bloody lip and a gash on his head where Vasily had raked him with the gun's muzzle.

"Thanks, Tony," McGee gritted.

Michael had felt a cold ball of ice drop into his stomach as McGee and then the cop had attacked. But just as he'd nerved himself to join the fray…it had been over. But now that cold ball was replaced with a burning feeling of shame. But it hadn't been his fault. He'd intended to join in..it wasn't his fault he had slow reflexes.

But what was needed here was strategy, anyway.

"Now that we've got _that_ out of our system," Michael said, "let's get back to the business at hand. There are two NCIS agents in that house that you say has a bomb in it. You've got to let me call them and tell them to get out."

Ludmilla waved her hand, in which she still held the dagger. "Yes, call them, quickly. Tell them to leave the house immediately." Then she said something in Russian to Vasily, who in turn pulled a walkie talkie out of his pocket and spoke into it.

They could feel the van slow down and make a right turn as Michael pulled out his cellphone..that was Tony DiNozzo's cellphone, and press Ziva's number.

She answered immediately. "Tony? Where are you?"

"Get out of that house, Ziva," Tony said without preamble. "Now. Get out and take Ducky with you. It's wired to explode."

Michael looked up at the Russian woman. "Where's the bomb?"

"That you do not need to know. The house will explode. Just get your people out of there."

"Ziva, did you hear that? Are you out yet?"

"Yes, Tony, we're all out of the house. We…."

Through the phone, the entire van heard the explosion.

At that moment, the van came to a halt. The radio in Vasily's hand squawked.

"Get out here," Ludmilla directed.

"Oh, come on," said Michael in his best Tony-can-charm-the-birds-out-of-the-trees voice. "You're not going to take us all the way back to the house?"

"No," said Ludmilla shortly.

"Well, you should at least pay for the cab, so we don't need to put it on our expense reports! There's a budget crunch in Washington, you know."

"Get out." Ludmilla said coldly.

The three of them got.

The van in which they had been riding, a white van with Virginia plates, shot forward and disappeared into traffic.

"Did you get the license plate number, McGeek?" said Michael as he started dialing Ziva again.

McGee nodded. "Yes."

"Good."

The police officer took a deep breath. "This is not going to look good on my report."

"Ziva," Michael said into the phone. "Are you alright."

"Yes, Tony," came Ziva's voice. "The house,however, is completely destroyed. What happened to you?"

"McGee and I were kidnapped. At gunpoint. By some Russians."

"Russians?!!!"

"Russians. But while they may have murdered the man in the house, they didn't want to be responsible for killing NCIS agents. Or police officers," he added, with a nod at the cop. "So they let us go."

"Get back to the office and start looking at mug books," came Gibb's voice. He must have grabbed the phone away from Ziva.

"Not necessary, boss," said Michael, proudly. "In all the confusion at the end, I was able to take several photos of them with my cell phone. Missed the driver, but I got the Russian gunman and the Russian gunmoll."

"Email them to Abby. I'll meet you guys at the office."

Michael, McGee and the cop looked at each other. "What's going to get here faster," Michael demanded. "Cop car or taxi?"

"Taxi," said McGee, as he stepped to the curb and raised a hand at a yellow cab heading in their direction. "Hey, taxi!!!"


	11. Chapter 11

**In the Dark**

**Chapter Eleven**

**Part I **

**Earth B (Cote de Pablo and Michael Weatherly in the world of NCIS. Each thinks the other is Ziva and Tony DiNozzo)**

As Michael and Timothy McGee rode in a cab back to NCIS headquarters (the police officer was returning to his own station), they sat in silence. Michael pinched his lower lip and stared out the window, as words kept repeating in his head, _This can't be happening…this can't be happening…this can't be happening_.

"Say it, Tony," said Timothy McGee at last.

Michael blinked and brought his attention back to the here and now. "What?"

"You saved Ziva's life. And Ducky's."

Michael stared at him. "Maybe," he said. "So what?"

"I almost got us killed. That's why you're giving me the cold shoulder."

_Wow_, thought Michael. Here he'd been feeling ashamed because he hadn't been able to back up McGee's play while they'd been in that van, and it turned out that McGee wasn't blaming him at all.

Michael put his arm around McGee's shoulders and squeezed. "McGee," he said jovially, "McGee! We both knew they weren't going to kill us, didn't we? So stop beating yourself up! If you'd succeeded in overpowering those Russians we would've been able to call Ziva a few minutes earlier. No big deal! It all worked out."

"You mean that, Tony?" said McGee,his face brightening a little.

"Of course. As a matter of fact, I was pretty damn impressed with the way you went after that Russian. If he hadn't been built like a Mack truck, you would have managed to get that gun away from him. Or if that comradette hadn't had that gigantic toadsticker with her."

"Stiletto," said McGee. "It was a stiletto. And yes, it was gigantic."

"So, there you are, McGee. Working together, we managed to persuade the Russkies to let us go. We both saved Ziva's life. And Ducky's."

McGee held out his hand. "Thanks, Tony."

"You're welcome, McGee. Now, I do need a little quiet, because I'm trying to figure out just what in hell those Russians were up to."

"Right. Got it."

**Part II**

Michael and McGee walked into NCIS headquarters, where Gibbs and Ziva (or rather Cote de Pablo, did Michael but know it) were waiting for them.

"You want to explain to me just what was happening, Tony? What are these Russians you're talking about?" Gibbs said.

Michael explained all that had happened. He mentioned McGee's heroic actions in the van. "But," he said, "I held back, because I could see the size of that Russian he was going after. And as soon as she pulled out that stiletto…"

"Okay," said Gibbs, when he'd finished. "Well, let's get down to Abby's, and see if she's having any luck with her facial recognition software."

"What about the house?" McGee asked as they stood in the elevator. "Was the body completely destroyed in the explosion?"

"No," said Gibbs. "Ziva grabbed up his arms, Ducky grabbed his legs, and they exited the building at speed."

"Oh," said McGee.

Cote felt it was time to assert herself. "I was going to lift him up in a fireman's carry," she said, "but Ducky grabbed his legs before I could lift him into position. It was very brave of him."

"Ducky's always been a warrior," Gibbs said quietly, as the elevator doors opened and they stepped out into the anteroom that led to Abby's sanctum sanctorum. He placed his eye against the scanner, the doors slip open, and they entered.

"How's it going, Abby?" Gibbs said

Abby, looking very striking in black and red stripes, looked up from her work table. "It's going, Gibbs, that's all I can say," she said sadly. "You can see the facial recognition software behind me buzzing away, and Ducky has sent me a few things. All the tests are…"

There was a ding…and then another ding…and Abby and the rest of the crew turned to look at the computers.

"We've got our Russians," Abby said happily.

Gibbs squinted at the screens. "Vasily Rodzenko and Ludmilla Kropotkin. Agents for the KGB?"

"I figured it was something like that, Boss," said Michael. "They so obviously didn't want to kill us. I think they're rival good guys. Only, of course, they're Russian…so they do things a bit more…"

"A bit more what, Tony?" asked Gibbs as Michael petered out.

"Well…bombing a building to cover up a dead body, _we'd_ never do that."

"You've got their addresses, Abby?" asked Gibbs, turning back to her abruptly.

"Of course, Gibbs. When KGB agents are in town, this is where they stay."

And she handed a piece of paper, with an address written on it, to Tony.

"Tony. Ziva. Go pay them a visit," instructed Gibbs.

Had they but known it, frozen balls of ice fell simultaneously down the throats of both Michael and Cote, into their bellies, but you could never tell it from their faces. Their eyes met, then they turned and left, as Michael said, "On it, boss."

"Hey, Tony," Gibbs barked.

Michael paused, look back.

"Stop by at the armory and pick up another gun, Tony. Try to hang on to this one."

"You got it , boss," said Michael, smiling weakly.

As they rose back up in the elevator, Michael glanced at the woman whom he thought was Ziva David.

"Nothing to say, Ziva?" he said.

Cote glanced at him. "Say about what?" she asked.

"About McGee attacking that Vasily guy, instead of me."

Cote gave him another glance, puzzled.

"If you' been there," Michael said, "You'd have attacked that behemoth, and succeeded, too."

Cote grinned. "Perhaps so. We're complementary sides of the same coin, Tony. You can charm your way out of trouble. I have to use more violent methods. They both work. Indeed, your way probably works more easily, and causes less damage to the surroundings."

"Well, thank you, Ziva," Michael said, pleased. "That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

Cote shrugged. "You couldn't expect me to criticize you, Tony. Not after you saved my life. And Ducky's."

"Oh, yeah," said Michael.

She punched him lightly on the arm.

Michael grinned. "Well, I'll try my charm on our two comrades. And if I fail, don't hesitate to kick some butt. They're both wicked fast."

Cote grinned again, but she had to force it this time_. Oh, god_….

Meantime, Michael breathed a bit easier. With Ziva with him, those two Russians wouldn't have a chance. Not that he wanted her to have to fight them. After all…he _did_ have charm…and they were no longer at Cold War with the Russians…but it was nice to know that Ziva would be there.

On the other hand, he thought, as he drove toward the address Abby had given him, that Ludmilla had been _wicked_ fast. He'd been to Ultimate Fight Bouts before, and he'd seen men and women with fast reflexes…and he knew wicked fast when he saw it. And Vasily was so huge…if things went wrong, he'd definitely have to pull his weight.

Michael gritted his teeth. He wouldn't be caught flat-footed again.

Or at least, he hoped not.

**Part III**

Michael brought the car to a halt in front of the address that Abby had given them. Then he looked at Ziva. "Well, here we are."

"Yes," said Cote. "Here we are."

They remained where they were seated, as if each were waiting for the other to get out of the car first…which indeed was what they were doing.

Finally, after the pause had become noticeable to both of them, Michael said, "Well, I suppose I had better go first, since I'm the one with the charm."

"I think so," said Cote, putting a bit of bite into her voice.

What had _that_ been about, Cote wondered as they walked into the building. He'd certainly gazed into her eyes for a long time…

As Cote and Michael walked toward the appropriate doorway, two shots rung out.

Without hesitation, both Cote and Michael pulled their guns out of their respective holsters and ran forward, while simultaneously saying "Oh, jeez," under their breaths. They stopped at the door…Tony on the near side, and Cote on the far side. They looked at each other inquiringly, as they had done so many times on the set of NCIS. Then, Cote took a deep breath, and nodded at the man she thought was Tony. Michael responded with a nod of his own. Then, he positioned himself in front of the door, lifted his leg, and kicked as hard as he could.

_**Now, said Alpha.**_


	12. Chapter 12

**In the Dark**

**Chapter Twelve**

**Part I **

**Earth A (Ziva David and Tony DiNozzo)**

When last we left Ziva David and Tony DiNozzo, they had witnessed what they thought was a car jacking of a green Malibu.

Tony then started to follow the car, and had instructed Ziva to sit close to him, so that they could pretend to be a couple cruising the highway, rather than two law-enforcement officials following a suspected crime-in-progress.

Ziva David had been on Earth A for some time, and had met the actors in NCIS who were portraying their counterparts on Earth B. She believed that Tony was in actual fact an actor, Michael Weatherly, although she had at one point harbored hope that the actor actually had been Tony, simply brainwashed into thinking he was an actor.

Tony, on the other hand, believed that he _was_ Tony DiNozzo, but that he was in Los Angeles, California on a mission with Ziva, probably helping the NCIS: Los Angeles crew. He also thought that he had partial amnesia, though, because he couldn't remember how he'd gotten to Los Angeles or what that mission might be.

He drove along behind the other car, feeling the warmth of Ziva at his side.

"This is nice," he said. He felt Ziva's body shift as she gazed up at him, but she didn't say anything, as he'd half-expected she would. Something was going on with her…he wish he could remember what had happened in the last 24 hours.

Instead, Ziva said, "I'm beginning to wonder if I was wrong. The driver certainly isn't acting like a car-jacker."

"Yeah…we're going 40 on a 35 mile per hour stretch of road," Tony commented. "Nothing unusual in that. I can't really see how the passenger is behaving…if it was a car jacking you think he'd be cringed over as far as he could go, but he's sitting up in the seat normally."

"Perhaps the passenger is a she," Ziva mused. "She picks up her boyfriend, and he insists on driving, so she has to move over so he can take charge of the wheel."

"Maybe so," said Tony. "So what do you think, should we keep on following them?"

"For a little while, anyway," said Ziva.

Tony noted that even though she was having doubts about the hypothetical car jacking, she had not moved away from him. She certainly fit together quite nicely, snugly against his side, his right arm draped over her shoulder.

Finally, the car in front of them came to a halt. The passenger got out of the passenger side door…it was a man, not a woman, Ziva confirmed. But he certainly didn't seem to be under stress. He came around to the sidewalk as the driver de-carred.

"Looks like we were on a wild-goose chase," Ziva said.

"Wait a minute," Tony snapped. "Do you see that? They've both got guns!"

And indeed, Ziva had seen the driver take a gun from inside his jacket and hand it to the other man. He then flourished a gun of his own. The two men turned and went up into a building.

"Let's go," Tony said, but Ziva was already getting out her side of the car.

"Uh…wait a minute," said Tony. "I don't have a gun."

"Nor do I," said Ziva.

They looked at each other.

"You'd better stay out here," said Ziva, finally, thinking that the actor would be relieved to do so.

But he just stared at her. "Don't be silly, Ziva. If you're going in, I'm going in. But maybe we better stay out here and call for backup. We don't know what's going on in there."

"We can find out," Ziva exhorted him. "The element of surprise. We go in at speed, and I guarantee to have the two men disarmed within a few seconds."

Tony shook his head in admiration. "Okay, let's go for it."

They crept quietly into the hallway, which ran the length of the building, with two doors on either side. They split up, Tony taking the left hand side, Ziva the right hand side. They continued to creep along the hallway, but stopped at each of the doors, resting their ears against them to see if they could hear anything within.

Ziva found their quarry first. Loud voices were emanating from within her door. She turned and signaled to Tony. He joined her at the door. She jerked her head at it, and he nodded.

Taking a deep breath, Tony faced the door, settling himself, then lifting his leg he kicked right under the door lock. As he regained his balance, Ziva rushed in. He was right behind her.

_**And, now.**_

**Part II**

Ziva David and Tony DiNozzo burst into the Russian's apartment room, guns drawn, to find that Ludmilla Kropotkin and Vasily had things well under control. Two men were on the floor, one bleeding copiously from a bullet wound, the other clasping a gashed neck.

The two duos stared at each other, then Ziva and Tony holstered their weapons. They both glanced at each other…and the memories of how ZIva had spent the last several days and Tony the last several hours faded away…to be replaced my memories from Cote and Michael as the two energy streams merged briefly before being returned to their own particular worlds.

As for Cote de Pablo and Michael Weatherly, they burst into the room to find a crowd of people. The two men they had followed were brandishing weapons, but they had struck poses and were obviously acting. They had obviously walked into some kind of mystery game.

Everyone in the room turned and stared at them as they burst in.

"Oh my God," said one of them. "It's Ziva and Tony from NCIS!"

They were surrounded, hands extended to shake hands. Cote and Michael grinned appreciatively but bewilderedly…

And the next morning when they woke up in their own beds…the memories of the events of the last few days had faded away as if they had never been.

They showed up at the set, to be greeted by Mark Harmon, Sean Murray and Pauley Perrette, and began filming the next episode of NCIS.

But somewhere, in the backs of their minds, they remembered that they had stared into the fire and emerged without stain.

**THE END**


End file.
